


Speakeasy Tonight (AU!Chat Noir X Reader)

by VariansTea



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - Gang World, Alternate Universe - Historical, Chat Noir To The Rescue, Drunken Flirting, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Female Protagonist, Flirting, How Do I Tag, Jazz Age, Minor Violence, My First AO3 Post, Older Characters, POV Female Character, Platonic Chat Noir & Ladybug, Reader-Insert, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-03-09 01:55:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13471245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VariansTea/pseuds/VariansTea
Summary: In 1920's Paris, the city is filled with gang violence. The most infamous of these gangs being the Akuma gang, and they're hunting for the protectors of Paris: Ladybug and Chat Noir. "The Kwami" is an underground speakeasy bar; (Y/N) only went there to drown her sorrows, she didn't expect to enter a fast paced romance with a masked feline gangster.





	1. Un

**Author's Note:**

> Psshh, I don't even know if im doing this correct- fuck me, am I right? Either way, this is my first fan fiction on AO3 and on Miraculous Ladybug so.... please be nice.  
> All the characters are older (around their 20's) as the story is based around a secret speakeasy bar during the 1920's jazz era. 
> 
>  
> 
> Paris, 1923. A heartbroken young woman goes to an underground jazz club (Speakeasy) to drown her sorrows.

_**UN: Absinthe** _

~(Your/Name) OR First Person POV~

Jazz music was a sweet harmony of the obnoxious tuba, calming piano, blaring trumpets and sultry velvet voiced singers; it was the perfect blend that combined the disruptive and peaceful together to make them fit in an odd yet satisfying way. I found more interest in the current song than in my little glass sitting on the counter in front of me- half empty, but no longer needed. The short cocktail glass had been filled with **absinthe** , the sweet emerald elixir which caused many hallucinations within the first 5 minutes of your first sip. Who knows, perhaps the entire speakeasy was a hallucination? Perhaps I hadn't run to the Speakeasy in order to escape my personal prosecution, perhaps I'd just managed to find some absinthe in the kitchen cabinets. It wouldn't surprise me. My vision blurred at the corners, making the singer on stage appear to have several extra limbs and the light bulbs around her were like thousands of orbs of sunshine intent on blinding. "Another drink,  _Chérie_?" The voice was unfamiliar, barley heard above the jazz but warm, and intent on reaching me through the raucous. My head turned languidly onto my shoulder, where I managed to catch a glance at the stranger- it was a man, sat almost gracefully on the bar stool: shaggy blonde hair framing his face like a halo, a felt midnight fedora resting atop his head, he wore a light lime coloured button shirt under a similarly dark waistcoat and jacket. His eyes were a deep green, like the sweetest absinthe, surrounded by a thin black mask which only hid the upper half of his face. Odd but obviously not uncommon for the Speakeasy- if this were suspicious, he would have been escorted from the premises. 

"I apologize, Monsieur, I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting before" the apology was half hearted, whether it was because I was weary of the masked man or if the alcohol was finally beginning to effect me, I wasn't exactly sure. The man gave a grin, "we haven't, my lady, but I couldn't help myself" the Cheshire cat grin evolved into a smirk- that damn smirk immediately carved itself into my mind, letting it be known that I wouldn't be able to get this man out of my mind for a while yet. Despite my slight hesitation, I shrugged, "as long as you're paying" which seemed to earn a wider smile from the man. After a few silent seconds, I turned to face him again, "monsieur, if you're buying me a drink, at least tell me your name", his eyes practically glowed a beautiful luminescent jade; the blonde hummed "Chat Noir, at your service m'lady". Sub consciously, my head slightly nodded before I grabbed a hold of my fresh glass of absinthe- I'd seen the name  **Chat Noir**  inked on a few papers for several years. He was some sort of protector apparently, fought against the gangs hiding in the shadows of Paris; although he was usually associated with a female referred to as  **Ladybug**. Then again, at that moment in time I could barely distinguish reality and dreams as alcohol began to set in (luckily, the absinthe effect wears off after a few minutes, so I didn't bother worrying). Chat slid closer to me by the counter, barely rubbing elbows as he attempted conversation, "I've never seen around- are you new?" His tone was light despite his natural voice making it sound lustful. I took small sips of the green liquid, the drink making me calm and honest "I'm from Montmarte but travelled here for my art- I suppose you could say I'm bohemian" my answer piqued interest in Chat. 

Chat opened his mouth as if to speak, but his voice was never given the chance to come out as a woman with a short black bob (although the lights made it appear a deep blue) and dressed in a red suit came bursting through the speakeasy door; "every one get down!" She demanded, promptly skidding over toward me and pulling me down below the bar counter. Immediately after the action, rapid gunshots echoed throughout the speakeasy and multiple screams could be heard as the public rushed for any sort of safety. The woman who'd burst in lifted her head the tiniest bit so she could check over me for injuries, "are you okay?" She whispered down to me, making me hastily nod my head, "thank you so much for helping me" I spoke back in a hushed tone. Chat appeared from the opposite end of the bar counter, "nice to see you, Ladybug" he smugly greeted, making the woman hiss "Chat! Be quiet! Hawkmoth's goons will hear us" her warning was raspy, with quick breaths of air between each word and a desperation I couldn't fathom. So these were the heroes of Paris. My hands had instinctively clenched tightly around my mouth in a measly attempt to silence my breathing; why had the speakeasy been attacked? Why did it have to be when I was there? Why did it have to be today? All these questions whirled insanely around my mind to the point where I felt genuinely faint. As I looked up at Ladybug and Chat Noir arguing, I noticed the fact she was wearing a mask too- it only covered her upper face, red with several black polka dots littered around her eyes. I wondered if there were other masked men who saved the city. In my distorted reality, I managed to decipher Ladybug's hushed voice saying "Chat, help move every one out the speakeasy and I'll deal with Hawkmoth's goons", which would probably explain why I was being hastily tugged along by Chat. 

My senses exploded when the chilly air of early January Paris whipped at my figure- couples of terrified people spewed past me from the Speakeasy's back door, screaming as they bounded down the cobblestones. The crisp fresh air burned in my lungs after they had been infested with liquor and stuffy ballroom air. A hand fell on my bare shoulder, causing me to flinch before turning to face Chat- he looked temporarily concerned at the fact I'd flinched at his touch, but promptly replaced his worried expression with a smirk, "guess I'd better go help Ladybug" from his waistcoat he produced a metal rod "stay safe, m'lady" he warned, clicking a button on the rod and making it extend. Chat hurled himself back into the speakeasy before I could reply, leaving me alone and confused out back. In all honesty, even if the speakeasy was being attacked by vicious gangs, I would have rather stayed in there than go back to my apartment. So, with only the nagging disagreement lurking at the back of my mind, I huddled up by the Speakeasy door- muffled grunts and gun shots could be heard from the ballroom where Ladybug had been fending off the goons. The sound wasn't nearly as soothing as jazz, but it managed to lull me off into some sort of unconscious state; I was shivering, curled up amongst cargo crates and confused beyond compare but the absinthe combined with my own general tire apparently forced my mind into a state of sleeping.

I only awoke at the feeling of warmth suddenly spreading over my body. Actually opening my eyes was difficult after falling asleep in the cold, so it took me a few minutes to realize I was being carried. A dark tuxedo style jacket was thrown around my shoulders, and my right side was pressed against a flat, yet decently muscled chest. Hesitantly, my head raised, letting my eyes fall upon a recently made acquaintance: "Chat?" I asked, squirming gently to pull the jacket tighter around my form but making him pause at the same time. "Ah, you're finally awake- we found you unconscious outside 'The Kwami' and couldn't wake you up, chérie" Chat sounded content, almost joyous as he held me up. From the corner of my vision, I saw Ladybug- she approached me hastily, "great to see you're not injured" she looked happy although her tone was laced with concern, "we thought we'd escort you home once you'd finally woken up" she explained, offering a crimson gloved hand to assist me in standing. Doubtful, I still accepted her hand and silently lifted myself away from Chat- the loss of his warmth was something I immediately regretted as wind practically whipped at my figure as soon as my heels touched the pavement. Awkwardly, I tugged at the lapels of the dark jacket, "well... I don't exactly have a home... anymore" the last word came out hushed, thankfully never heard by either suit clad saviour. However, the two obviously heard my first phrase; Ladybug's eyes no longer looked mildly sympathetic but they were flooded with some sort of concern. Chat's head had faltered onto his shoulder and he was oddly silent despite being quite confident while we were in the Speakeasy. Ladybug's hand hesitantly rested amongst my shoulder, "are you saying you have nowhere to stay?" the genuine feeling in her voice made me intensely guilty.

Somehow, the conversation had led to Ladybug offering me a place to stay: the drastic offer made me nervous, forcing me to attempt to argue out of the situation. I could simply ask to borrow some money for a hotel room- however, Ladybug was intent. She mentioned a friend of hers: a woman around my age, who lived close by the Eiffel tower, looking for a roomate. The description seemed comforting but it was still a stranger. Chat Noir coughed into his hand, forcing all eyes on him, "you could always stay with me, m'lady" he was a mix between flirting and being sincere. Ladybugs just shook her head, "now's not the time, Chat-- Marinette is a really nice person, I swear; if it makes you feel better, I'll stay with you at her house until she meets us" the care in her voice made it easy to trust her. Or it was just my mind shutting down from my hours in the Speakeasy. Reluctantly, I nodded in agreement, "alright... but please stay with me and make sure it's completely okay with her", Ladybug gave a small reassuring smile. An awfully bizarre inane beeping began to echo around our trio; Ladybug shot a concerned glance at Chat. Chat lifted his hand momentarily, staring at the ring on his left and giving a sigh- the blonde man approached me with the return of his fitting grin, "you're intoxicated chérie, so stay safe with Ladybug" he leaned toward my face and pressed a light kiss to my cheek. Once the masked man had turned, my hand shot up, as if the contact had caused a searing pain on the side of my face. I could hear him chuckle, so he'd either thought of me acting flustered or actually turned and saw me blushing, before his deep tone commented "a bientot"- with that, his shadow jumped up to the Parisian roof tops, shooting off with the speed of lightening. Ladybug hummed, watching the shadow disappear behind chimneys before setting her gaze back on me, "oh! Chat left his jacket..." she pointed out, gently tugging on the fabric covering my back; I smiled nonchalantly, "I'm sure he doesn't mind at the moment". So with that, Ladybug escorted me to her friend's house- assuring me it would be fine, that she would sort everything out as I was apparently too intoxicated to walk much longer. The last thing I remember was setting foot in the darkened house and collapsing on the nearest armchair, falling into sleep in mere seconds.


	2. Duex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Y/N) awakes to find her new house mate- Marinette. The morning is spent talking about Ladybug and Chat Noir; the afternoon is planned with Marinette's friend, Alya.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry for such a long wait- I had technical difficulties. However, I'll be continuing this story relatively daily- pretty much every other day? If I stop procrastinating, that is.

**_Duex: Roommate_ **

 

_~(Your/Name) POV~ _

My eyes fluttered open when obnoxiously bright rays hit against my eye lids- I let out a muffled groan, instantly feeling a heavy string of pain shoot through my head as the aftermath of Absinthe. The room's colour didn't help either; salmon pink. So the sun just made it a literal blank white blur blocking my vision. However, my other senses (although injured from the night before) didn't fail me in analysing the situation- I'd definitely heard curtains before the light hit me, so someone had pulled curtains open around me. Racking my memory, I couldn't actually recall knowing any pink room; it certainly didn't exist in the speakeasy I'd visited the night before, and I hadn't lived anywhere with this much passion in interior decorating. ' _Well done, (Y/N)- lost in a strange place and talking to yourself'_ mentally scolding myself, I managed to adjust my vision to the surroundings. With a better eye, I could notice normal furniture: bookshelves, black wall canvasses and pictures of people I didn't recognize. So... somebody's house. Looking down on myself, I still wore my somewhat formal dress and had a suit jacket strewn over my figure, so at least I hadn't done anything  _ **stupid**_ while drunk. A rustle could be heard from behind me, so I instinctively flickered my head toward it- only earning a sharp sting at the back of my head. I hissed through my teeth at the pain, slapping a hand up to cover the patch of my head where the pain originated from, not that i would be able to stop it. The rustling stopped and footsteps began getting louder before a figure emerged from- what I assumed was- the kitchen.

"Ah, you're awake" the woman smiled warmly; she was relatively average in height, slim, but with striking blue hair. Or was it black? This damn hangover was tricking me. She approached me with a glass of water, which was promptly placed on a small table beside me- nervously, I looked up to her, "sorry but... I don't... remember anything right now... do I know you?" My question made the woman cock her head. She hesitated for a second, before giving another small smile, "eh... well not quite; I'm Marinette Dupain-Cheng" the woman held out her hand to me. Knowing she was my only real reliable source (considering I was in  **her** house and she knew about me), I took her hand and shook it tentatively. Once we parted, she hummed, "do you remember anything about last night?" She asked, continuing to stand in front of me despite there being space on the seat beside me. I took the glass of water from the table and took tiny sips as I attempted to recount- "well... I'd gone to a bar and met this guy, he was pretty decent and then, I think, this woman in red just burst in and warned everyone of some kind of attack? I only really remember that, sorry" I admitted, taking a longer drink. Marinette nodded along to my story, waiting for me to finish before adding on the things I'd missed- "the two people were Paris' heroes: Ladybug and Chat Noir. A speakeasy down the street was attacked by a gang and you must have been in that speakeasy" she said, eventually sitting beside me. Once she'd said their names, I remembered Ladybug and Chat Noir. Almost immediately, I perked up, "oh yeah, Chat Noir-- he was the guy I was drinking with before the attack... I think this is his jacket, actually" I mumbled, looking down at the dark fabric hanging over my legs. Marinette scoffed softly, playfully rolling her eyes at the mention of Chat Noir; I noticed the action instantly, "do you know him? Like... really well?" I asked.

Marinette had brushed off my question, saying Chat Noir been in the public eye since he and Ladybug started helping Parisians years ago. Apparently, very little was kept secret between the masked feline and the city in France. However, after some slight pleading, Marinette did tell me all that she knew. She pulled out newspaper articles from years back and recent interview pieces featuring the heroes; the woman claimed she had an avid interest in them and helped her friend, who wrote articles on the two heroes. Marinette told me about how people were sceptical of the two when they first appeared- two suited teenagers wearing masks proclaiming they would protect the city from possible villainy. They were part of a secret group, which hid away from the public in a speakeasy bar. I found that part especially interesting: it was a clever tactic. The amount of speakeasy bars in Paris was close to the hundred mark and if the heroes hid in one then it would take a while to find them. Then a massive gang under the name " _ **Akuma**_ " showed up and people begged the heroes to save them from possible gang members. The leader was the infamous ' _ **Hawkmoth**_ ' and he would kidnap people, bribe them and, reportedly, could hypnotize normal citizens into working for his gang. Ladybug and Chat Noir had saved hundreds after being 'Akumatized'. 

When I told Marinette I'd barely heard of these prophetic saviours of Paris, she seemed shocked. "How couldn't you have heard about them? They're in the papers pretty much every week" she sounded honestly astonished. In turn, I shrugged, "I have seen them and heard of them a few times, but in Montmarte there's been a sort of revolution- the bohemiams prefer creative literature to actual news" I gave a jilted laugh, scratching the back of my neck. Her sky blue eyes lingered on me momentarily before she accepted my reasoning; "why didn't you tell Ladybug you lived in Montmarte?" The bluenette asked (I was still unsure of her hair colour, but found it looking blue a lot more than black), lifting away all her newspaper articles. My eyes trailed slowly to the floor, hands naturally raising to my forearms, "I-uh... I'm currently looking for a new place to stay" it was a white lie. Technically not a lie at all. It was an explanation with reasons left out. Opposite me, Marinette raised one brow, "and you don't have anywhere to stay right now?" She enquired, sounding sympathetic. A dejected sigh escaped me before I could even stop it, "no" I answered simply, having a vague idea that Marinette would continue to pester me until I told her. The woman let out a slight gasp, making me eye her sideways, "it's nothing big, Marinette, it's fine" I assured her, gesturing unambiguously; she gave a gentle glare (if that was even possible). She looked stern yet concerned all at once. "(Y/N), you can stay here until you find somewhere of your own" even her tone was confusing me. I bit the inside of my cheek, thinking over what was happening and how I even ended up in this situation.

"Wait" I paused, making Marinette's somewhat confident stance falter, "how did you know my name? Better yet, how am I even here?" My voice rose in panic. Marinette's eyes widened, "well-- uh... Ladybug brought you here!" She shouted, making me lean back away from her slightly. The woman gave a toothy smile, "yeah... Ladybug brought you to my house because... she knew I had a spare room! And she told me your name, by the way" the bluenette's words came out rushed, sometimes she would stumble over her words and have to repeat them- when she finished her explanation, she took a triumphant deep breath. My head nodded slowly, as if any quick movement would trigger Marinette into a stumbling, screaming speaker again. "Marinette?" I hesitantly said, watching her head bounce back up to face me as soon as her name left my lips, "thank you for letting me stay here" I gave a small smile- earning one back. Marinette perked up temporarily, "oh, that reminds me actually; I have my friend coming over because she wants to talk about the Akuma attack at the Speakeasy last night, you don't mind, do you?" She asked, pouting slightly to see if it made me any easier to convince. All I did was shrug again, "if you're letting me stay here, the least I can do is let you have people over- I have no problem at all".

When I said that, I didn't know Marinette's friend would ask  _me_ about the events. Alya was adamant for me to give as much detail as possible. Alya Césaire was the smallest bit older than Marinette, just a tiny bit taller too. She was tanned, a lush golden brown skin tone complimented by dark chocolate brown waves of hair that just passed her shoulders, with odd Amber tints. She wore a thin wire frame pair of glasses that shielded hazel eyes, above one brow she had a decently sized beauty mark. She wore a ruby swing dress and carried around a note pad- Alya was the single journalist who reported on Ladybug and Chat Noir through thick and thin, she'd do anything for a good interview with previously Akumatized civilians and the heroes themselves. The tanned woman sat beside me, leaning ever so slightly into my side as she shot quick questions to me- some about why I was at the bar, if I knew anyone and what happened when the heroes got there. I could only answer a few due to my blurred memory, and I stuttered through most- Marinette had noticed my discomfort in the interview and had nudged Alya, "have you asked Adrien about anything? Doesn't he work near that Speakeasy?" She insisted, making Alya jump- "you're right! I should have gone to him first" she exclaimed. Alya jumped from her seat and adjusted her coat, "Marinette, you should come with me and bring (Y/N); you said she's new to Paris, so this would be a perfect time to show her around, girl" the brunette suggested, sending a grin toward Marinette. The bluenette turned to me, "it does sound like a good idea" she commented, walking toward her coat rack and reaching out for a coat.

For a few seconds, I thought about all the bad that could happen; but if Alya and Marinette continued to act so nicely then i doubt I could end up in much trouble. So I agreed to go with them.


End file.
